Just Open Up
by Stoked009
Summary: Taken from their now-ordinary (boring) lives and put in a room with each other, the Cahills go through fights, revenge, romance, broken hearts, jealousy, hatred, anger, sorrow, pain and hope to escape. Only two, though, will make it through the final door.
1. The First Door

Ian looked dejectedly out his window. It was a sunny spring day in London, a rare one, and he could hear people laughing as they walked across the street. He turned back to his computer, and continued working. He was working on some important Lucian files, concerning the Vespers and their stronghold.

Ever since the Cahill's gave Vesper 1 all the items and they let the hostages go, Ian couldn't help but feel a little sickness in his stomach that it wasn't all over. Every waking moment he spent was thinking about what the Vespers were doing with those items, and where they were.

He forced himself to stare at his computer, reading the sentence again and again, until it made some sense in his mind.

It didn't.

He got up and made his way to the kitchen, looking for something to eat. It took a while, considering his office was three floors above the kitchen. As he made his way downstairs, he could hear Natalie whining to their carer about the lack of soap variety. Before he could stop himself he said, "Oh, shut up, Natalie."

He saw Natalie's face cringe in pain, then she ran up to her room, sobbing. He tried to stem the flow of guilt that was rising up inside him. Natalie had just come home, and already he had succeeded in making her cry. He sighed. Ever since the clue hunt he had been feeling the same: tired, lonely, annoyed. His therapist said he was depressed. He didn't believe it for a second.

The doorbell rang, and suddenly he remembered. Quinn was coming over today! He had completely forgotten. He rushed to answer the door before his girlfriend wondered where he was. He just opened the door and said, "Hey, babe," when he saw who it was. A large man was standing over him, holding a gun. He smiled, pointed the gun at Ian, and shot.

Whoever it was, it wasn't Quinn.

Amy Cahill was also, at that exact same time, staring at the screen of her computer, but for an entirely different reason.

She was reading some emails that her boyfriend Evan had sent her.

_**Dear Amy, I love you so much and desperately need and miss you. I love you so much, and I just want you to know, I nominated us for Prom King and Queen.**_

_**Come over tonight, 'kay?**_

_**Love, Evan xoxoxo.**_

Amy tried to fight the nausea that was coming up inside of her. What in the world…?

She didn't even bother to finish the thought in her head. Why am I still with him?! She screamed in her mind.

Why, why, why, why!

Ever since that thing she had with Jake, she couldn't help feeling that Evan was exactly the opposite of the kind of boyfriend she wanted. Sure, he was sweet and kind, but it had gotten to a point where it was driving her crazy! She took a deep breath and decided. She was going to have to break up with him.

She emailed Evan back saying she would come over, and hurried out the door. She took a deep breath and sniffed in the fresh Boston air, before climbing into her brand new green Lamborghini, and driving off. She turned up the radio, and started singing along, her hair billowing in the cool breeze. She had just turned out of her street, when she noticed an odd black car right behind her. In it she saw a large man.

With a gun.

She quickly veered off the road, into a green space with a small park. She _knew_ this man was a Vesper, she just _knew_. And she knew she had to get away. She rambled the car on towards the park, trying to get out of the way of the screaming children running frantically in every direction. She swerved the car around in the right direction, and kept going.

The man in the black car was right beside her now, and he expertly cut her off, ramming her into something she _conveniently_ hadn't seen.

A tree.

The impact of the smash blew up her airbag, and for a moment everything froze in time.

Then the sound of police sirens caught her attention, and she struggled to free herself from the seat. Amazingly, nothing had been broken, and she felt reasonably stable. She _flung open her door_ and stepped out, running for her life.

Except she never made it, because the man in the car had already sent the bullet towards her head.

_Two doors open, he thought. Two Cahill's down._

The paper the next day read:

**Crazy Car Crash On Cruppers Street**

Yesterday afternoon, there was a car crash in the small green space off Cuppers Street. A green Lamborghini swerved off the side off the road, and started in the direction of the park. Luckily, a man in a black car who saw the whole thing, managed to ram the driver into a tree, saving all those innocent children from death. The whereabouts of the crazy driver are unknown, though, and the driver has not been seen since the incident.


	2. The Surprise Door

**Just so you know, this chapter **_**may**_** have a few spoilers for Shatterproof. Hope you like it! :D**

Sinead Starling was another one who was looking at her computer screen that day. She was looking at the reviews people had posted about her new scientific invention: The Leaf Shredder. It had the remarkable ability to shred leaves, which could be very useful for cooking. How exciting!

Sinead sighed. Even her own sarcasm was beginning to bore her these days. Working alone in the Vesper Stronghold all day was a _huge_ bore. She still didn't have any friends. The other Vespers would look at her like she was dirt, and no one wanted to share an office with her. They had expected the Vesper Mole to be a bit more, _Vesperish_.

_Cahill germs_, they whispered. She had _Cahill germs._

Well, of course she was a Cahill. What were they expecting, a Neanderthal?

She knew it was completely ridiculous, but sometimes she wished she was a real Vesper, and had never known the Cahill's. Other times she just wished she could be back in Attleborough, hanging out with Amy and just having fun. But then she would remember her brothers, and know that she had done the right thing.

Just then she heard a slight tap on her door, too quiet to be one of her rude co-workers. She got up, walked over, and _opened_ _her office door._

The last thing she saw was a red bullet darting towards her head.

Hamilton Holt, thank god, was not on his computer at that time. Instead he was outside his house, playing footy with his sisters. They were really very aggressive, especially Reagan, who seemed to have a lot of extra time in prison, and had grown twice as strong. His father and mother had gone out to celebrate their anniversary, leaving Hamilton to stay at home the night, babysitting his younger sisters.

They played for some ten minutes more, then decided to go inside for a drink.

"That goal totally didn't count." Reagan said.

"Are you kidding? You must be blind, that went right through the posts," Madison countered.

"Sure."

"It did!"

Hamilton tried to drown out his sisters bickering, and focused on drinking his special fitness drink.

It was good for fighting Vespers.

For some reason, everything felt like the clue hunt again. Going home, getting back to their old routine, feeling like maybe things would get better from now on.

Then, BAM! The game changes, and the hunt is on.

He finished the rest of his juice, and was just about to do his daily workout, when he noticed an odd-looking black car pull up in the front of his house. He went over to the window, interested, and watched as a man got out of the car and walked up to the house. The man was huge, and he was almost as tall as the signpost. He opened the creaky gate, walked up to the front door, and rang the bell.

Hamilton was torn. Should he run, should he fight, or should he just open the damn door and see who it is?

"Hey, Ham?" Reagan said. "D'you think that last goal counted? Cause Madison says-

"Shhhh" He turned to look at Reagan. "Just shut up."

Reagan seemed to notice something was wrong, and rushed into the kitchen to tell Madison. She took a while, then came back puffed out, with a freaked out look on her face.

"Ham," she said slowly. "Madison isn't there."

Hamilton turned his attention back to the window, and almost cried out in shock.

The car was gone.

The man was gone.

Madison was gone.

He rushed into the kitchen, Reagan at his heels. He looked around, and found what he dreaded he'd see.

The back door was on its hinges, swinging back and forth, letting the cool air rush into the house through _the open door._


	3. The Million Dollar Door

Lilya Chernova had had a rough day. She had lost the National Teenager's Maths Competition, ruined her brand new pink dress, and chipped her nail _right_ after she got a manicure. Then on top of all of that, her boyfriend Trent had dumped her for Quinn Mallister, even though Quinn already had a boyfriend!

Even though Quinn was one of her best friends, she couldn't help feeling jealous of Quinn. She had everything she could ever want, she was pretty, had guys drooling over her, and had _amazing_ nails.

What more could you want in life?

Lilya looked out her bedroom window. A black car was pulling up at the front of her mansion. Her parents were rich Ekat mathematicians, and they owned half the street. Her parents were out of the house, doing some Cahill business.

Again.

Lilya loved her parents, but she couldn't see why they had so much to do with the Cahill's. When she got older, she would have nothing to do with them. Being a Cahill was bad enough, why would you want to actually be involved with _other_ Cahill's? That was why she didn't bother doing the Clue Hunt. Too much stress, and endless running around to places you'd rather not go.

Plus, there would be the risk of ruining her nails.

She noticed a _really_ big man coming out of the van, and entering through the tall, black gates.

Wait, how did he get past security?

She got up, and quickly took the elevator downstairs (running down all those stairs would have taken too long) and rushed past the kitchen, living area, and office space, to get to the window. Looking through the window, she saw the man walk up to the front door, and ring the antique doorbell.

He took a peek towards the window, and smirked at Lilya.

She quickly ducked down, her breathing fast and uneven. Who was this weird man, and _why_ didn't her parents tell her he was coming? Unless…

Unless her parents didn't know he was coming, unless they didn't organize it. Her parents always told her everything. This man couldn't be a Cahill. And he definitely wasn't one of those annoying salespeople.

He must be a Vesper.

Her parents had only mentioned the name to her once before, and said that the Vespers were evil people who ruined the Cahill's lives by tormenting them. They killed, they tortured, they…

The list went on and on. But one thing of value her parents told her was: if you ever meet a Vesper, get in contact with someone, and then run.

Lilya took a sneak peek through the window. The man was still there, apparently waiting for her to open up.

He looked impatient. She didn't have much time.

She got on her hands and knees, making sure he couldn't see her, and crawled to the nearest table.

Thank god there was a pen and paper there. She hurriedly wrote a note:

_**3 August – 3:30 PM**_

_**Dear whoever is reading this (hopefully Mum and Dad), **_

_**There is a strange man outside my door. **_

_**I am certain he is a Vesper.**_

_**By the time you read this I will either be on the run, or trapped in a claustrophobic prison cell. I can't stay here any longer, because they might bash open the door, and then who would pay for another 18**__**th**__** century million dollar front door?**_

_**It won't be me. I will most likely be in Paris if I manage to escape.**_

_**Love Lilya.**_

Lilya then hid the note carefully in a secret compartment under the table, and scurried back over to her windowsill-hiding place. She took a look. The man was talking to some other woman now, and it was obvious by the way they were pointing at the door, that they were going to barrel it down.

Lilya knew she had to act quickly. She stood up, gathered all her courage, and _opened her million-dollar door_.

The last thing she saw was the man smirking as the red dart raced towards her face.

Jonah Wizard was preparing for his first concert in a year. After defeating the Vespers (not really) he decided to have a break in his music career.

That was a _huge_ mistake.

Sales dropped. Money stopped. And for his comeback concert, only _half_ of the tickets were sold.

_Half._

He tried to shake off his nerves, and focus on his first line for his first song. Everything else would come naturally.

Just then, his secretary came bustling in through the backstage door. The door had been painted by a great artist, and had Jonah's face covering the _entire_ door. It was estimated to be worth a total of a million dollars.

His secretary Jane walked over to him and quietly whispered in his ear.

"Mr. Wizard, there's a man outside your door that wants to see you."

"I'll get him, thanks Jane."

Jane nodded, then walked off to fix up the microphones. Jonah got up and headed over to the door. He sighed. So many people wanted to see him these days. Lawyers, dealers, most of them were Cahill's wanting him to loan them money. He always said no.

His therapist didn't want him to be too stressed. That's why he took the year off. Going through all that with the Vespers… It had changed him. He still woke up screaming at three in the morning sometimes.

Jonah took a deep breath, and _opened his million-dollar door_.

And… Well, you know what happens next.

The man turned to face the woman, her bright green hair glowing in the darkness.

"Have you got everyone?" He asked her.

"Almost, just a few more, and then I'll put them all together."

The man nodded, satisfied, then he said:

"Tell them what you want."


	4. Another Broken Door

**Sorry for such a long wait! I've been a bit busy and haven't been able to convince myself to continue with this story.  
****Just a quick question: do they have generals in Russia?  
****Anyways, hope you like!**

Amy woke up with a throbbing pain in her forehead. Vaguely she wondered if Dan had bruised her again by his usual knocking against her forehead to wake her up. She sat up tiredly, rubbed open her eyes and was about to tell Dan to piss off, when she froze.

She _wasn't_ in her bedroom. Though this room did have a bed. She searched with her eyes, but Dan was nowhere in sight. Fear started rising up in her chest, and she breathed heavily, pinching herself, making sure this wasn't a dream. She looked around her surroundings again, taking in every little detail. Because she knew this place, had walked its very floors.

This was the Vesper stronghold.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lilya Chernova's parents had just come back from their meeting, to find their door wide open, their precious vase from America in pieces, and their daughter nowhere in sight.

So, naturally, they were suffering from a mini heart attack.

"My vintage American vase!" Mrs. Chernova screeched. "They broke my $800,000 vase! What is_ wrong _with them?"

And at that she burst into tears.

"Honey, look at this! There's a scratch on our door! Come quickly!" Mr. Chernova shouted, loud enough for the neighbours to poke their heads over the hedge, wondering what was going on.

Mrs. Chernova ran from the vase, to the scratch on the door to which he was pointing. There was a tiny letter L marked into the wood.

"Lilya!" Mrs. Chernova screeched again. "They took Lilya!"

More people began crowding now, peeking through the mailbox and closed high gates.

"Darling, not so loud," Mr. Chernova murmured to her. "You're attracting attention."

"_I'm _attracting attention! _I'm _attracting attention! You're the one who was screaming to all of Russia that we have a little _scratch _on our door! You're the one who's attracting attention!" Mrs. Chernova looked a little mad.

Mr. Chernova had to defend himself.

"Excuse me, _darling_, but who was the one that wanted the vase _right_ in clear view of the window, so the whole neighbourhood knew we had it!" Mr. Chernova countered, feeling attacked.

"You were the one that wanted to leave Lilya _home alone!_ You said we should give her some independence! And now look what's happened! They've _destroyed _my American vase!" Mrs. Chernova was shouting now, at the top of her lungs.

"_And _they took our daughter too!" She added as an afterthought.

Mr. Chernova shouted something back at her, and they continued like this for quite a while, with the neighbours pressing their ears in to listen, not that they needed to.

Because the Chernova's were very respectable people, who were living in a very respectable neighbourhood, this was a bit of a surprise. The people of Rubwidvya always loved a good drama, and the last one they had was twelve years ago, when the general's daughter got pregnant with a married man. It was quite the scandal!

But this was something quite different.

One woman, by the name of Kimberly Baxter, (who was notorious for knowing everything about everyone) decided to call the police, as you do. They were there within ten minutes, and Kimberly went with the police to find out _what_ was going on.  
As soon as Mr. and Mrs. Chernova saw the police coming, they seemed to regain their wits. They tidied themselves up, and went to tell the police what had happened. Even though they already knew that nothing could be done to save their daughter.

Oh, and the vase too.

* * *

Cissy Baxter was standing next to her mother, as the police heard the story. She was shocked and quite worried.

Lilya was like, her best friend! How could this be happening!

Her mother had told her that moving to Russia from their hometown in Georgia would be, like, a _great_ change. Except it wasn't. The bullies at her school made fun of her weird accent and no one actually liked her. Lilya _was_ the only one who could speak English, and she _was_ into gymnastics, so Cissy _couldn't_ complain, especially since she was her only friend.

Except for the fact that sometimes she could be a bit annoying.

_No, Cissy thought. There are heaps of great things about her. It's __not__ good that she's gone._

She continued convincing herself.

Lilya _was_ pretty nice, and she was the only person she knew that loved gym as much as she did. Except for Quinn, of course, but Quinn was _ages_ away in New York.

Cissy sighed.

She wondered away from her mother, going down the steps and wandering through the Chernova's front garden. The other neighbours had disappeared now, leaving Cissy alone with the wind flapping about her face.

Except she was not quite alone.

A black car, which Cissy hadn't noticed, was parked near the house. At that moment, a large man came out of the car. He smirked a little, then raised the dart gun to Cissy's face.

She only had time to scream before she got knocked out.

The noise had startled Kimberly, and she turned around just in time to see the car's tyres screeching as it drove away.

"Cissy?" she called. "Cissy!"


	5. The Room with no Doors

**Hellooooo! to whoever's reading this. ANY criticisms that you have PLEASE tell me about them! I want to know! No, really, I do.**

**Stoked xx**

* * *

Amy soon realised that she was in a room with about ten other people. It was a nice room, she noticed, with couches and a mini kitchenette. Even though it was one of the Vesper strongholds, it was a little more refined. It even had a TV.

_Not bad…_

She analysed it again. Yes, it was very nice. No windows though. Of course, when people kidnap you, they're not going to put you into a room with windows. That would be just plain stupid. Amy actually felt quite relaxed. She was so used to being kidnapped that waking up to find yourself somewhere completely different was quite the norm. She looked around, and figured that she was the only one awake. That meant she could analyse people without them thinking she was a creep. She recognised a few familiar faces. There's Madison, oh, and Sinead! Ian and Jonah were lying next to each other, hand in hand. She snorted, and started laughing.

Whoever had kidnapped them certainly had a sense of humour. _Was it that man in black who had shot me?_ She wondered, trying to remember what exactly had happened. No, it couldn't have been him. She walked around. There were four other people in the room that were completely unfamiliar to her. One was a small, skinny girl with dark skin and gorgeous curly hair. Next to her was a Russian girl, blond and tall. A memory tugs at the back of Amy's mind. Yes, she knows this girl. It's Lilya Chernova, Amy remembers meeting her at a Cahill function. She reminded Amy of Natalie. Bitchy and stuck-up. Though perhaps Natalie was a bit nicer, which is saying something.

Another girl was lying next to Lilya, straight and perfect, like Sleeping Beauty. And what a beauty she was. Whoever had laid her out must have had a soft spot for her, because her golden hair was brushed and lain perfectly across her shoulders, her hands clasped together over her waist, while everyone else looked like they had just gone through the car wash.

Her lips were a delicate shade of ruby red, no make-up applied, and her eyelashes were long and black. She was slender, with skin as golden as her hair. Her clothes were casual yet obviously expensive, and she reminded Amy of a Regina George clone. No, more like Sleeping Beauty. Yes, Sleeping Beauty waiting for her prince to come.

Ridiculously pretty, wearing designer label clothes, and just a hint of black eyeliner, _this_ must be Ian's girlfriend. Amy felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought, then remembered that she didn't like Ian.

Amy walked around for a while, and soon noticed a boy over in the far corner of the room. He had long blonde shaggy hair, and was wearing board shorts and nothing else. He had a surfer's look to him, and Amy looked at him for quite a while.

_He's pretty cute_.

Amy knew there was no point trying to escape, and was sentenced to wandering around aimlessly with nothing to do. She wasn't bored for long, however, because she heard someone stirring.

The Cahills were waking up.

* * *

Madison was the last person to wake up, and when she did, she was extremely annoyed.

"Oi! I'll have you idiots know right now, that I don't like waking up in the middle of the bloody floor!"

She was not heard, however, because there was a large amount of chaos in the small room. Jonah was rapping to himself loudly, while Lilya and Cissy were reunited with squeals of, "Oh my god! Oh my god! I can't believe you're here!"

Sinead was trying to find a flaw in the room, looking for cracks, bumps, or anything that could help them escape. _Good luck with __that__._ Madison knew this room; it was part of the Vesper stronghold. There's no way they would be able to escape.

Some weird surfer dude was moping around, his bare feet sliding across the floor. Ian and Quinn were having a full on make-out session. Madison hated Quinn. She went out with Hamilton for a while, but then dumped him for Ian. Madison still remembers the five punching bags that Hamilton destroyed after he saw her with_ him._ Amy was trying to gather everybody together, but failing miserably. Madison got up off the floor and flopped on the couch, looking over at Ian and Quinn one more time. She started pondering ideas.

Time to avenge those who dared to hurt a Holt.


	6. The Secret Door that Nobody Saw

**Hi again! Thankyou for the reviews! This chapter is quite long, it was five pages on Word. Five pages! I may have just set myself a record.**

**Anyway, why exactly am I talking? Read, read, read!**

* * *

Cissy Baxter was in a bad mood. Sure, she usually was in a bad mood, but today she was in an _exceptionally_ bad mood. She had missed her state gymnastics competition! That was her only ticket to Nationals and she had missed it! Bastards. Cissy hated whoever thought they could just capture a bunch of innocent teenagers and lock them in a room to…to what? Die? Some people could be so sick.

Little did Cissy know just how wrong she was.

She ended up going to talk to Kevin, who was being completely ignored by his sister. Quinn was talking to Jonah, who seemed dazed that she would even notice him. Ian looked on with a mixed expression of jealousy and amusement.

"Hey," Cissy said.

"Hey!" Kevin's Australian accent gave Cissy a break from the monotonous sound of American voices.

"Having fun?" Cissy asked, her sarcasm almost unnoticeable.

"You know what? I think I am. This is alright, just me and a bunch of crazy people I don't know." Cissy laughed. "Look at that muscly girl over there, trying to punch the wall out. And that loony one with her magnifying glass. And Jonah Wizard! I'm in the same room as Jonah Wizard! Might go get an autograph, if he stops making puppy faces at Quinn."

"Who's that girl over there? With the red hair."

Kevin looked over to where Cissy was pointing. There was a pretty girl with long reddish-brown hair and bright green eyes trying in vain to round everybody up.

"You think she's their leader?"

Kevin shook his head. "Nah. If she was their leader she would be able to grab their attention straight away. She looks familiar though. I saw her once at a Madrigal meeting. Quinn hates her."

"Why?" Cissy's curiosity had been raised up by about ten notches. Who was this girl? What had she done to make Quinn hate her?

"Some stupid thing about Ian. They'd probably been together about fifty years ago, and Quinn had found a reason to be jealous. You know how she is."

Cissy knew exactly how she was. If Quinn had found a reason to be jealous about something as small as that... _what would happen if she found out that_ _I had kissed Ian…_

_Stop_, Cissy told herself. _The more you think about it, the more real it becomes. I hadn't meant to like my best friend's boyfriend. It was an accident. It was an accident. It was an accident…_

It wasn't an accident.

* * *

Amy knew that being nice wasn't going to work any longer. She took a deep breath, raised herself up to her toes and screamed, "SHUT UP YOU MORONS!"

It worked like a charm. "I DON'T CARE WHO YOU ARE! I DON'T CARE WHETHER I KNOW YOU OR NOT, IF YOU DON'T COME AND SIT DOWN ON THIS COUCH IN THREE, I WILL PERSONALLY STRANGLE YOU! ONE…TWO…THREE!"

Within three seconds, eight young people were sitting on the couch like dogs, waiting for their master to either spank them or give them a treat, their ears perked up, their mouths open expectantly. Amy was proud of herself. She breathed in, and continued.

"Now, we're all here together, the nine of us. And whether we like it or not, we're going to have to trust each other. What if they never bother to feed us? What if they're merely doing this for the sick pleasure of seeing us wither away and die?! Don't just expect to be babied and that all your basic needs are taken care of. Have you noticed that they haven't even bothered to change our clothes and check us? I still have my phone. Doesn't that seem a little weird? The first thing we're going to do is learn each other's names. Tell everybody a bit about yourself, and what skills you have. Sinead you're first."

"I'm Sinead; I have two brothers, neither of which is here, thank god. I also have skills in lock-picking, hacking, inventing, repairing and I have a masters in engineering." Everybody looked impressed, except for Amy.

_Masters in engineering? You don't have a masters in engineering, _she thought.

"Yo, I'm Jonah Wizard! You all probably know that though. You can find my autobiography in all bookstores. Actually, wait, I think I might have one here." He rummaged through his man-bag and pulled out a glossy book with a large picture of himself. "It's called 'My Story'."

"Original," Sinead sneered.

Jonah shot her a dirty look. "Hey, you have a problem with dat?"

"Yes, actually. Also the fact that you can't pronounce the word 'that' properly. It troubles me."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know my talk was affecting you s-"

Amy butted in before things could get any worse. "Anyway, who are we up to now?"

"Me, I think." Ian said.

* * *

They kept going at it for a while, and gradually everybody began to talk to each other. Great. Amy looked on contentedly as the Cahills chatted. She felt on top of the Vespers, one step ahead. _Well, we haven't killed each other yet, we're actually bonding._ She enjoyed this feeling for a minute or so, until something disrupted her pleasure.

Her stomach was rumbling.

Suddenly, a whole new range of thoughts were going through her mind. _Are they going to feed us? How long have we been here? One, two hours maybe? Are we going to starve? We can't. They fed the hostages last time. What about us?_

Amy rushed over to the kitchenette. She turned on the tap. Fresh water began rushing out of the tap, like a waterfall from God. Realising how thirsty she was, Amy spared no thought for good manners and ducked her head under the tap. When was the last time she'd had water? She remembered having a glass on the morning of the car crash. For some reason, it didn't feel that long ago, but how long had it really been?

Amy suddenly felt people around her. She turned around, and saw them all eagerly waiting for some, their tongues hanging out, drool on their shirts. _Why do I keep comparing them to dogs?_

"Ok, go for it. I'm going to look for some food."

She began rummaging through the cupboards. Empty. Empty. Empty. She did, however, find a washing machine and an ironing board, but no iron. _Well, that's ironic. No pun intended._ She laughed at her own little joke. The only thing Amy found was a box of matches and a torch. _Why would they do this? Why would they give us matches and a torch? Why did they even give us a kitchen? Do they want us to escape? _

Amy searched the whole room over twice, Ian and Quinn helping her, but they couldn't find anything. Not even one little grain of rice. No food. No bathroom either. How the hell were they going to survive in this place?

* * *

Ian pretended to listen as the group talked about sleeping arrangements. It was weird, being in a place that always had light, but still having that feeling when it was dark out. Something was wrong. He soon got lost in his thoughts…

"Ian? Ian? Ian!" It was Quinn, waving her hand in front of his. "Come on, babe. Wake up!" Ian opened his eyes groggily. The room was pitch black, except for the torch Quinn had in her hand, which was shining directly in his face.

"Get that thing away from me."

She directed the light away from his face. "Ian, I got us the couch," she stated smugly. "They're all sleeping on the floor."

Ian leaned up to kiss his girlfriend. _This_ was why he loved her.

"How the hell did you manage that?"

"I have my ways," her smile turning mysterious. It was pretty sexy. He kissed her again, this time it lasted much longer. Quinn giggled and leant forward onto him.

She turned the torch off, bathing the room in darkness.

* * *

The girl with the glowing green hair turned away in disgust. "Definitely _not_ something I want to see."

The large man nodded. "Violet, how long do you think they'll take?"

Violet smirked. "What? Those two? Not very long at all." She laughed.

"Be serious."

"We have to wait for Kurt, Mr.D. He's bringing the last few. He's also bringing the food."

"How long will he take?"

"Three, four day's maybe. They'll be fine. A bit of hunger won't kill them."

* * *

Four days later, Kevin could feel his stomach stitching in pain. They had tried several times to escape, but even with all their materials, nothing seemed to work. Madison had even suggested using the couch as a ramming device. Tried. No result. Lighting a fire and melting the floor? Tried. No result. (That one was never going to work.) Eventually they just didn't have the energy. Thankfully there was a small bucket inside the cupboard where people could piss in private. Then they'd pour it down the drain. Pretty handy, actually. Clothes were washed and dried, but this meant that the few without clothes had to walk around in their underwear for the day or wear someone else's clothes. It was a tough choice, especially for Quinn, who hated seeing Amy walk around in her Fiona Scanlan jumper, but they weren't cavemen yet. They needed something to hold onto, and that was their dignity.

Kevin adjusted his position on the couch, hoping it would make the pain better. It didn't. He began saying his prayers: Mum, Dad, Quinn, Clarisse… He could imagine Clarisse's little face, sad and broken at his funeral. _Please make sure my little sister's happy. And my big one, as well._

He was up to his friend John when he heard a creak. The cupboard door opened and out came Kurt.

Kevin automatically felt a surge of hatred. Of course it was him. Who else would do something like this? Kurt had three very large boxes with him. "Here's your food, guys. Sorry it's a bit late. Had some errands to do." He looked over his shoulder. "Come on, boys!" Out of the cupboard, like they were escaping from frickin' Narnia, came Hamilton, Evan, Jake and Dan. Kevin only knew them from Amy's descriptions.

It was like _The Titanic_. Well, not really. Amy and Madison ran up to their brothers/boyfriends/secret lovers while everyone else stood around awkwardly. Kevin took a quick sneak at Quinn's face. She was staring at Kurt as if he was the Ghost of Christmas Past. He sort of was.

"Okay, guys. Now, we will be installing a bathroom soon, but it may take a while. So just sit tight and chill, 'kay? Hope you enjoy your food!" Kurt announced, putting the boxes on the floor then leaving the way he'd come. Kevin looked around the room. Twelve people were suddenly crouched around the boxes, clawing their way through the cardboard.

"Macca's!" Dan cried, jumping up and down in the air. All fear on his face was suddenly gone, replaced with sheer ecstasy. Everybody started grabbing different things: burgers, nuggets, chips. Whatever they could lay their hands on. Kevin jumped in there and grabbed a burger.

Seemed like a pretty good feast.

* * *

Quinn looked at the soggy bread, the mould-coloured pickles, the chips that were so covered in salt that they looked almost white. Well, they looked white to Quinn. She couldn't eat that. She had sworn to herself that she would never eat McDonalds, and she wasn't about to break that promise. She felt like crying. Kurt _knew_ that she hated McDonalds. It was his way of punishing her. But for what? _He _was the one who had been cheating on her with Violet for over a year. _He _was the one who had failed to tell her that he was a Vesper until the day she had broken up with him. _He _was the one who had broken her heart.  
_He_ was the one who had spent a day telling Quinn that she needed to go on a diet. He was the one who had told her to stop eating Macca's.

Fucking sadist.

Ian didn't know about Kurt. It was better that way. Everything was better that way. No one knowing. Except for Kevin of course. He was the only one that knew everything. She looked at the boxes one last time, then went to lie on the couch.

Wouldn't make a bad deathbed.

* * *

Amy had been watching Quinn from the moment Kurt had walked through the doors. Kurt seemed vaguely familiar to Amy, but she couldn't remember why. All memories of the clue hunt had been washed away. It seemed so long ago now. Amy saw Quinn walk away from the food. _Walk away!_

"Quinn, don't you want some?" Amy asked.

"I'm _fine_, thanks. I don't eat cardboard." Amy could tell she wasn't talking about the boxes.

"If you don't eat, you're going to starve."

"Fine with me," she said. She wasn't fine though. Amy could see her ribcage through her shirt. This girl was dying.

"You know what, Quinn? While the rest of us live on and maybe even escape this place, you'll be shoved underneath the earth in a white coffin because you were too stubborn to just eat what you were given. You should be happy they even bothered to feed us at all!"

Quinn was shocked. "Excuse me?"

Amy instantly knew she had gone too far. The look on Quinn's face was enough to tell Amy that she wouldn't live to see tomorrow. Yet Amy couldn't help but feel she was right. A large bang sounded, and everyone turned to the cupboard.

The door was opening.

* * *

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**Stoked xx**


	7. The Punch that Changed the Game

**Just so you know, I began writing this story pre-Day of Doom, so Natalie and Evan are alive and well.**

**Cheers xx**

* * *

The feeling of not showering for a week was not a good one. Dirt had seeped through Quinn's pores and into her nails. Her hair was flat and oily, split ends showing where they had never shown before. Pimples were dotted along the bridge of her nose, a problem she'd never have to deal with before.  
Her whole body reeked of sweat and urine. So did everyone else's for that matter. Leave a dozen teenagers in a room for seven days and this is what you get. Hell.

Quinn noticed Ian at the sink, desperately trying to wash his hair under the tap with a sponge and lemon-scented soap detergent. She laughed inside. She didn't have enough energy to physically move her lips.

Whatever Kurt and Violet had hoped to achieve was obviously working. Every single person in the room was staring blankly ahead in a state of depression. Nobody talked to each other. They simply didn't have the energy. Kurt hadn't bothered to feed them since Monday when he brought McDonald's. That meant that Quinn hadn't eaten in almost two weeks. With great effort, she pulled up her top and looked at her chest in the mirror.  
She could see her ribs clearly, her skin as thin as paper. _What is happening to me?_

The room had been equipped with a portable toilet, but Kurt and Violet had forgotten to attach the flush, so twelve people's faeces was just sitting in the toilet hole, letting out a stench so ghastly Quinn was beginning to lose her sense of smell.

Amy looked wrecked, her eyes boring into the Narnia cupboard so intensely that there were two small holes on the cupboard door. Quinn blinked. No, she was just imagining that.

"Amy?"

Amy turned around slowly. "Yes, Quinn?"

"You need to do something about this. I don't want to die looking like a homeless virgin."

* * *

Two hours of painful scrubbing and _still_ his hair was not clean. Ian sank to the floor. He felt like crying but couldn't summon the energy.  
Beside him, Jake was trying to call his brother Atticus. That wasn't going to work. Jake knew this, obviously, but he seemed to be in some sort of desperate state of hope that a miracle would occur. Ian had given up hope in hope a long time ago.

It just didn't help you when you needed it.

Suddenly, the cupboard door creaked open. Kurt and Violet came out, looking pleased with themselves. Ian automatically felt a surge of hatred.  
Even more so when he saw Kurt gripping tightly onto _his own_ hair gel.

"'Ian! My man! Hope you don't mind me using this," Kurt grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth.

With great difficulty, Ian stood up, stumbled over to Kurt, and punched him in the face.

* * *

A fight ensued.

Quinn was pulling out Violet's hair. Cissy and Lilya had grabbed Ian's hair gel and were smashing windows. Jake, Kevin and Ian were working on Kurt while Hamilton was kept busy being the incredible Hulk. Tables, chairs, couches, lamps. They all went flying.

The Cahills were no longer starving prisoners. They were animals.

After three hours of vicious battle and twenty security guards, the Cahills were sedated and it was decided that they should be put in a new chamber. One with an actual toilet.

Violet sat in the computer room, brushing her hair. "That little bitch. When I get hold of her, she's going to be strangled like never before!"

"Calm down Violet," said Kurt

"_Calm down?! _ You-you want me to _calm down? _Look at my hair!" she screeched.

"Violet, we're going to get our revenge on them soon, okay? Just chill. This mission is _really_ important and I don't want you screwing this up for me like you did last time."

"Fuck you."

Kurt sighed. He knew there was no point reasoning with her when she was like this. He touched his nose and his thoughts darkened. Ian had punched him so hard it had broken. The doctor said he would never look the same again. Kurt wasn't ready to give up his good looks yet, but he wanted another fight.

Badly.

* * *

Dan surveyed their new room. It was pretty snazzy. Twelve four-post beds, a sleek modern kitchen, and _three_ bathrooms. Three! In the kitchen was a pantry stock-full of food, a fridge, a sink and a chalkboard. There was a small living area near that, with couches and board games from the 18th century.  
Better than nothing. A small, airy gym was squeezed in there as well. There were also windows and a door that led to a nice garden. Beyond that was desert. And more desert. And more desert. Amy had guessed the Sahara, but Dan wasn't so sure. He had seen the Sahara Desert before.  
This one looked similar, but more artificial.

Nobody had suggested they escape. It was out of the question. Everybody was starving, battered, bruised and had just woken up from being sedated for twelve hours. They needed a rest.

* * *

Amy called a meeting in the living room.

"We can't do that again. We became savages in there. We lost all sense of ourselves and turned into a bunch of wild animals driven insane by hunger. From now on, we've got to establish a strict routine so that we don't go entirely nuts."

She turned to the chalkboard where she had written down a daily schedule.

"We will wake up at seven-thirty each morning, to have breakfast at eight. At nine will be fitness training outside for one and a half hours, or you can go to the gym. Then the groups will swap at ten-thirty, and at twelve we have lunch. At one will be lessons, where we learn from each other, and at two-thirty you will have half an hour of free time. At three we will have 'strategizing', where we basically try and think of ways to escape. Four till six you can do anything you want, and dinner is right after that. I don't want to be a prune but everyone should be asleep by nine. Any questions?"

Dead silence.

And so began their life in the artificial-looking Sahara Desert.


	8. The Desert House Door

**Hey guys! I'm sorry about all the swearing, but these are teenagers we're talking 'bout here. They just can't keep their dirty mouths shut.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Jake could see the droplet of sweat sliding down his nose. It made its way down his chin, neck and then slid under his shirt, like the three million droplets before it. He looked up. He could see Hamilton way ahead of him, practically sprinting.

"Only one more mile, guys! WE CAN DO THIS!" Hamilton shouted, turning around to look at the wispy human figures jogging behind him.  
His message was passed all the way down the group, until it reached Jake's ears.

They had been running non-stop for well over an hour, and had covered who-knows-how-many-miles. Jake felt like he was about to die. His whole body was drenched in sweat, and he had stitches in every side of his body. Training was a living hell.

Amy, who before was near the front of the pack, slowed down to join him.

"Come on, Jake. We've only got five hundred yards left. Race you there?"

Jake looked at her grinning face and regretted not joining the cross country team at school. He couldn't say no because he would look like a wimp, but if he said yes and she beat him…

"You're on."

They started sprinting. Amy's long hair billowed behind her as she ran. She was so beautiful. Her jade green eyes were sparkling as she laughed, the wind carrying the sound far beyond the desert ranges. Jake increased his speed and so did she. He managed to stay just a foot in front of her as they passed Hamilton, who was groaning in pain and muttering swear words.

The adrenalin started kicking in, and Jake started sprinting. He was ahead of her, but she managed to catch up and they crossed the finish line at the exact same time, way ahead of the others. Jake turned around to look at her. She must have been in pain, but she was smiling. This was the happiest he'd seen her in days. _I would make a much better boyfriend that than stupid Ewan, _he thought.

He considered kissing her again, but that would make Amy feel even guiltier about cheating on her boyfriend. _I'll give her a few days. A few days to make her mind up about who she really wants._

* * *

Cissy, Lilya and Quinn led the gym class.

"Okay, you lot. The runners out there think that gymnastics is a waste of time but it's _not. _It's actually a really good way to stay fit, strong and flexible," Quinn started.

"We'll get started with some stretching. Reach high to the sky and then touch your toes," Cissy continued.

"Keep your legs straight and try to get your head to your knees," Lilya added. "We'll come around to see who's doing it right and who's doing it wrong."

They didn't come around to see who was doing it right and who was doing it wrong.

They all sat down and started gossiping.

"Quinn, what are you going to do about Kurt?" Lilya asked, starting off what would become a long conversation.

"Nothing. What are _you_ going to do about him, Lilya?"

"I was just asking."

Quinn frowned. "I'm sorry, babe. I'm just a little touchy on that subject."

"You have a right to be. He's such a dickhead."

_Oh no, _Cissy thought. _You've fired her up. Now she's going to go on a rant again._

"I know right. He acted as if it was _my_ fault. It wasn't! I had been the _perfect_ girlfriend and he just took it all for granted. I can't believe he cheated on me! _Nobody _cheats on me! Ever! He didn't even have the courtesy to dump me properly!"

Lilya shook her head. "Just terrible."

_Please stop._

"I don't even know why he likes Violet. She's got the shittiest green hair and she looks like a skinny little goth. Who'd want to go out with a goth?"

_Kurt would._

Quinn sounded a jealous. Cissy knew that some part of Quinn still liked him; even after all he'd done to her.

"Sorry, Lilya, what was your question? What I'm going to do about him?"

Lilya nodded.

"I've decided. I'm going to shove him and his little girlfriend into a cave to die."

Cissy laughed. "Wow, you and your boyfriend have a lot in common."

"What?"

"That's exactly what Ian did to Amy and Dan during the clue hunt. He and Natalie made an alliance with them in South Korea. Amy liked Ian, and Ian pretended to like her so that he could find the clue, but then ended up liking her back. He then saved her life and kissed her, before leaving her in some cave to die but, don't worry, they managed to escape."

Quinn was wearing a dangerous smile. "Oh, I'm not worried. I'm just curious as to how you know all of this _information_. Has Ian been spilling his deepest, darkest secrets to you? He's never told me about this."

Cissy blushed. "Um, well, he hasn't told me that much. Some of it I got from Amy."

Quinn's face darkened. "Amy? You must be spending a lot of time with Amy to know all this. Don't you know that Amy is one of my worst enemies?"

Cissy swallowed. She had seen Quinn do this a million times to other girls. First, she interrogated them, asking question after question until she had all the facts. She would do this in a friendly voice, smiling all the time. But the girl would sense the tension, and sooner or later would burst into tears and spill the beans. Quinn would smile and comfort her, but Cissy knew that this girl would have to be punished. Cissy and Lilya had always been bystanders, watching the interview with guilty eyes, but not saying anything. It was a rite of passage, something that had to be done.

But Cissy had never been the one who had something to hide. She knew she would have to tread carefully. She had already given too much away.

"Seriously, Quinn? You think I didn't know that? Aren't you happy I've brought you all this information on her to you?"

Quinn paused for a moment, scrutinising her. "I am happy, actually." She paused again. "Stay friends with her." She looked at her watch.

"We should probably start them doing something. Let's split them into groups. Two on floor, two on beam and three on bars." She and Lilya walked off to set up the equipment.

Cissy breathed a sigh of relief. That was too close.

* * *

All thirteen Cahill's sat in the kitchen, eating lunch.

Amy was too tired to talk. Instead she studied everybody else. Lilya was picking at her food, her nose upturned in disgust. Quinn was refusing to talk to Ian, which Amy thought was a little weird, and Cissy was looking over at them guiltily. Jonah and Hamilton were both trying to get her attention but she completely ignored them. Kevin was looking a bit lonely. Amy went over and sat in the empty chair next to him.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi. Amy, right?"

"Yeah," Amy smiled. This guy was so cute.

"Can I ask you something?" Kevin asked, looking at her seriously.

"Sure."

"I know who everybody here is, except that dude over there with the glasses. Do you know him, or is he just some rando you picked up off the street?"

Amy laughed. "That's my boyfriend, Evan."

Kevin looked a little disappointed, but he smiled. "Bring him over."

Amy went over to fetch Evan, but saw Kurt coming in the house and stopped moving.

"Hey, guys! How are we all? Good? That's good. I'm just here to bring you some extra food, so you don't get too hungry." He winked at Amy. "Hey, Amy. Haven't seen you in a long time."

"What?"

"Remember me? Kurt, from South Africa?"

Amy blinked. She looked closely at him, and racked her brain for a Kurt in South Africa, but she couldn't remember.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't…"

"Know who I am? That's okay." He smiled, and Amy was stunned by how good-looking he was. Never before had she actually noticed what a Vesper looked like. They all liked like evil, soul-sucking bastards. But Kurt seemed, nice.

It was almost as if she'd seen him before.


	9. The First Day

Ian was given washing-up duty. He stood staring at the mountainous pile of dirty dishes.  
_What has happened to me?_ He, of course, knew exactly what had happened to him. He was just unwilling to accept it. Quinn had broken up with him. She hadn't done it officially yet, but she didn't need to. Ian knew what had gone wrong and so did Quinn. It just took her a little longer to figure out.

Ian sighed. He hadn't kissed Cissy on purpose. It had just been one of those in-the-moment kisses, the kind which you instantly regret afterwards. But their relationship was going downhill anyway. Quinn wasn't the girl she used to be. After Kurt cheated on her, she had formed a tight shell around herself and wouldn't let anyone in. She found new friends and restarted her life. A life of plastic.

Ian didn't want to have anything to do with it. He couldn't stand girls like that. He started dating her, to see if he could bring out her true nature, but it didn't work. Nothing he tried worked.

He sighed and opened the dishwasher. He began stacking the dishes when a voice surprised him.

"Ian! Ian, what are you doing?" It was Amy, running up to him. "Stop! You have to rinse them first, so the dishwasher doesn't get dirty."

Ian took a step back while Amy began taking the dishes out.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. It's the dishwasher's _job_ to clean the dishes."

"Yes, but if we don't give the dishes a quick rinse before we put them in, they will make the dishwasher dirty, and if the dishwasher's dirty, then it won't be able to clean the dishes."

Ian looked at her, confused. He sighed. "Oh, the good old days. When I had servants."

Amy laughed. It sounded like tinkling bells. "You know, it's weird. The whole time we've been here, I haven't talked to you at all."

"You must be relishing it."

Amy smiled. "No. I miss it."

* * *

Kurt opened the door to the computer room. "How's everything going?"

The large man and Violet turned around. Kurt was holding three cups of coffee.

"Gimme," they both said.

Kurt laughed. He went over and handed them their coffee, then took a sip of his own. "So, how's everything going?"

"Good, I guess." Violet said. "They're actually starting to enjoy themselves."

"I told you we should have given them a better chamber," Kurt smirked.

"Shut up."

Kurt sat down. "I still don't understand why we have to make them have a good time."

The large man smiled.

"So that they can stay here forever."

* * *

Quinn was the first to notice it.

"My water tastes funny."

Lilya looked over at her. "Quinn. It's fine."

"No, I'm serious. I'm not just being picky. It tastes different to yesterday."

Amy, who was listening in on the conversation, turned around smiling. "It tastes different to yesterday? And what did your water taste like yesterday? Did it taste like water?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I'm not in the mood for a fight, Amy. If you want one, go talk to your boyfriend. He seems pretty pissed at you. I don't blame him. Less than a week here and you've already flirted with three other guys."

Amy's mouth opened and closed in shock. Then her eyes narrowed and she stormed off. Quinn didn't care if she got upset. It was the truth.

She took another sip of her water and sniffed it. It definitely tasted funny.

Ian walked over to her and sat down. "Hey, is there something wrong?"

"I'm not talking to you, but yes, there is something wrong."

"What is it?"

"Ian, do you understand what the words 'I'm not talking to you' mean? They mean that I'm not talking to you. So go away."

Ian sighed. "You cannot stay mad at me forever."

"Yes I can."

"I said I was sorry," Ian looked pleadingly at her.

"Oh my god, Ian! Can you just go away? Please."

Ian left, annoyed at himself. _Why do I still beg her to take me back?_

_Why do I still want her back?_

* * *

Evan sat on the porch, watching the desert sun slowly make its way across the sky. He thought of his mum and dad, and wished he was back with them. When a guy in a black car shot him on his way to Amy's, he thought his life was over.

He was almost right.

Living in a house, no, cottage full of Cahills was not what Evan thought it would be. He thought that with Amy there things would be alright, but Amy was always either talking to Sinead or flirting with that Jake guy. Evan saw her mingling with Britain's Next Top Male Model and Aussie surfer dude too.

He just didn't understand why she did it. _Why not just break up with me, Amy? Why do you have to make me feel like shit before you dump me? You've probably already cheated on me._

"That's it," Evan decided. "I'm just going to have to break up with her first."

* * *

Sinead led the first lesson.

"Okay, guys. Listen up."

The twelve people in the room completely ignored her, choosing instead to chat with each other, throw paper aeroplanes around the room and, in Dan's case, start ripping up all the science books.

Sinead's heart stopped. "DAN! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

Dan looked a little scared. "Uh, destroying cheapie science books?"

"That was a rhetorical question, Dan, what do I really mean?"

A moment passed in pure silence. "You mean that you…ah…want me to stop doing it?"

"Yeah, and shut up too."

She had caught the attention of everyone else in the room, and twelve pairs of eyes were now locked on her, waiting for her next attack.

"Alright. I don't know if you guys have noticed, but there is definitely something wrong with this place. We have all we could ever need, and they have actually equipped us with information on how to survive in the desert." She picked up a book. "If you kidnap someone, and leave them in the middle of the desert, why would you help them try to escape? It just doesn't make sense."

"They obviously want something from us," Quinn piped up. "Maybe they are trying to make us like them so that they can get information from us."

"If they wanted information from us, they could've just tortured us," Amy said. "It's much quicker and more effective."

Quinn frowned. "I'm not talking about _that_ sort of information. You do realise that there are cameras all over this house. They are learning much more about us by simply watching us than by way of torture. What we say to our friends and family is much more private and valuable than what we say when we are being tortured. I've got a feeling this is some sort of psychological game. You know, like _The Mole_."

Sinead started at the mention of the word 'mole'. She was sure Quinn had seen her.

"That's a good theory, Quinn, but if they are playing a 'game' with us and someone is the mole, then we better watch our backs."

"Also," Amy added. "We shouldn't tell each other too much, because, one: they could be the mole, and two: the cameras will probably catch what we are saying. We need to be very careful about what we say and who we say it to. And also-"

"I thought _I_ was running this class, Amy." Sinead frowned.

"Jeez, sorry. You let Quinn ramble on for three minutes straight but I'm not allowed to say a few words?"

Sinead quickly backpedalled. "Sorry, Amy. I'm just a little possessive. You go."

Amy's eyes lit up. "We need people to find the cameras and destroy them."

"Finally! Someone said what we've all been thinking," Ian butted in.

Amy blushed. "Okay, so I'm guessing you want to do that, Ian?"

Ian nodded.

"I'll help him," Evan said.

Amy smiled at him. "Cool. Ian and Evan will tackle the cameras, and I'll get Jonah and Quinn to-"

Sinead watched Amy give out orders, seething in rage.

_How nice of you Amy, to just butt in and take over my class, _she thought.

* * *

Dinner.

It began well. All eleven Cahills and one Tolliver.

And Jake.

Jake fit in okay. He mainly hung out with Amy and Kevin. Kevin was hilarious. He made up jokes that weren't even funny, but the way he told them brought tears to Jake's eyes.

Tears of laughter. Not tears of sadness.

But the way Amy looked at Kevin made Jake feel jealous. It was hard to hate a guy as nice as Kevin though, it really was.

Anyway, dinner began well.

Amy and Ian had prepared the meal, lasagne, while Kevin and Quinn had prepared the salad.

Jake could hear them arguing about it in the kitchen. He peered through to see Kevin practically pouring the oil into the salad.

"No, Kevin! How many times have I told you that I only use _extra virgin_ olive oil. Not some crappy bottle from Walmart! I bet Violet bought this."

Kevin laughed. "Walmart doesn't sell oil, Quinn. Have you even been there? It's a department store. D-E-P-A-R-T-M-E-N-T."

Quinn smiled. "You're wrong. It does sell oil. But it's okay, Kevin, you're not American, so you're excused."

"Shut up."

"Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, we're going to have to start the entire salad all over again!"

"Stop being melodramatic."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Just toss the salad."

Jake could hear Amy and Ian arguing as well.

"Stop, Ian! You're going to burn yourself. Go get the mittens."

"Mittens?"

"The things you put on your hands when you're baking and stuff like that. Go get them!"

"I don't know where they are."

Amy groaned in frustration. "Seriously, Ian. You're useless. I'll get the mittens."

She started looking around, fumbling through the cupboards and muttering curses.

Jake saw Ian pull out the mittens from behind his back, smirking.

"Are these what you're looking for, Amy?" Ian said, showing her the mittens.

Amy glared at Ian while he laughed. "Not funny, Ian. Not funny. Help me with this."

They put on one mitten each and together lifted up the enormous lasagne tray onto the table.

* * *

"Dinner is served!" Quinn called out. She was holding the salad bowl in one hand, a giant spoon in the other. With her apron on and her long, golden hair tied back, she looked like a blonde Nigella Lawson.

Kevin, on the other hand, looked like an oil spill. Quinn had accidently knocked a tub of oil when she was reaching for the top shelf, and it had fallen onto Kevin's innocent, unknowing head. Quinn said sorry a million times, and when Kevin refused to accept her apology, she said, "On the bright side, none of it went into the salad!"

Sisters could be so annoying.

When the beefy girl and her older brother saw him, they started laughing their heads off.

_Stupid Tomas's, _Kevin thought.

Quinn set the salad down on the table. "The lasagne will be here soon," she said.

Kevin sat down next to Cissy. "So, how's everything going?"

Cissy looked nervously at Quinn. "Your sister's going to kill me."

Kevin grinned. "Why? What'd you do this time?"

Cissy managed a smile. "Something terrible. Something forbidden."

"Wow, sounds intriguing."

"It is. But never fear. Quinn will have her revenge soon. She has brewed it in her magic pot full of poison apples, and will serve it up with the over-dressed salad."

Kevin burst out laughing. Quinn eyed him suspiciously. "Kevin!" She called out.

"Yes, Quinn?"

"Come here NOW."

Kevin smiled at Cissy, then walked over to Quinn. "What is it?"

"I don't want you talking to Cissy anymore."

"Why not?"

"I'm not going to tell you now!" She hissed.

"Why not?"

"Why do you think, idiot?"

"Come on, Quinn. You can't forbid me from talking to people."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "You can talk to people. Just not Cissy."

"I'm going to talk to whoever I like. Just because you're two weeks older than me doesn't mean you can tell me what to do."

"Yes it does. I always tell you what to do."

Kevin sighed. "Well, not anymore. I'm putting my foot down!"

Quinn laughed. "What TV show did you get that off? Dance Moms?"

Kevin smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. Episode thirteen."

Quinn smiled. "I'm sorry Kev. No fraternising with the enemy." Then she picked up her plate and flounced off.

* * *

Amy decided they needed a break about halfway to the dining room. Ian agreed. They had been carrying a tray of lasagne that felt like it weighed fifty tonne.

They put the tray on the floor, panting.

"How…much…farther?" Amy said, falling into the nearest chair.

"About three metres."

Amy somehow lifted herself up. "Come one, Ian. We can do this. Of course, it wouldn't be much trouble for someone as strong as you."

"You're right. You go have some of Quinn's oily salad and I'll carry the tray by myself. Shouldn't be too hard."

Amy smirked. Ian's ego was his one weakness. "Alright, Ian. As you say."

She looked at him again and felt butterflies in her stomach.

_Stop being ridiculous, Amy, _she told herself. _These butterflies aren't real._

_These butterflies aren't real._

_Are they?_

* * *

Quinn felt her anger grow during dinner. Cissy was the main cause of this anger. Firstly, she was flirting with Ian. It was so obvious, the way she bit her lip and giggled at everything he said. _Is that the best you can do?_

Secondly, she refused to touch Quinn's salad. She kept on picking at it and making remarks about how oily it was. Quinn wanted to tell her that Kevin was in charge of the dressing, but then it would look like she cared.

Finally, she seemed intent on becoming best buds with Amy, as if she was replacing Quinn in their little threesome. Quinn overheard their conversation:

"So, what do you think of the salad, Amy?" Cissy asked.

Amy laughed a little. "Ugh…it's definitely tasty."

Cissy smirked. "I know right. Very tasty. Sort of fishy too. Or maybe it's just the oil. She put half the tub in."

Quinn's anger boiled over. "Oh, shut up Narcissa," she said loudly.

The whole table quietened. They could sense a fight coming.

"Excuse me? What did you just call me?"

Quinn stood up very slowly. "Your name. Narcissa."

Cissy walked over to Quinn, very calmly, and punched her in the face.

Another fight ensued. Quinn and Cissy were in a full-on catfight, scratching and clawing at each other, throwing punches that hit the air. The whole table was in disarray, and someone, probably Dan, started a foodfight that lasted well into the night.

The first day in the Desert House had ended in fights.

And lasagne on the walls, which Ian would probably have to clean up.


End file.
